


i don't know who's behind the wheel

by orphan_account



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Demon!Ryan, I guess more of Possessed!Ryan, I have a whole plan for this story that I'll never write, I slander the name of rich Buzzfeed execs, M/M, Or rather the lack of name because this is HORRIBLY lazy, Suicide Attempt, To Be Continued
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-10 11:54:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14736497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: One night, after returning to LA from a shoot, Ryan attempts suicide. Or rather, the demon attempts murder.or BFU fandom has so many Demon!Shane AUs and not nearly enough Demon!Ryan ones.





	i don't know who's behind the wheel

**Author's Note:**

> I never actually thought I'd write a fic for this show, let alone something as serious as this. I may never continue past the first chapter.

Two weeks ago, Ryan was admitted to the psych ward and the first question out of the lips of the Buzzfeed exec was the fate of the show. 

“We could take a hiatus. Build up a really great season, spring it on them when he’s better.”

Shane found it hard to believe -- and really, believing things blindly was Ryan’s job anyway, which made his absence sting all the more -- how callous the business of producing could be. 

“Don’t you think we should ask Ryan?”

The exec had frowned at him, like a father who had expected more out of his son. “The show was just taking off, I mean, come on. The ad revenue alone…”

“Yeah,” Shane’s brow furrowed in contempt, “Our next episode could be called The Mysterious Suicide Attempt of Ryan Bergara.”

It was mysterious in that it didn’t add up. On the plane ride back to LA, Ryan had seemingly been fine -- bantering, cracking jokes. Shane remembered teasing Ryan mercilessly as the flight attendant handed him a coffee, right as the plane dipped into turbulence. The coffee had splattered across his hand and Ryan had screamed an expletive so loudly that he had earned a glare from the mother in the row in front of them.

“Was that a ghost too?” Shane had asked.

“Shut up.” Ryan had muttered.

The news had come that morning, in the form of a frantic phone call. Ryan had run into the middle of traffic outside of his apartment, getting hit by a white Jeep Patriot, and breaking two of his ribs. 

_ Alive. _

Shane had savored the single word like it was the last one he’d ever hear. It could have been so much worse.

Only family had been allowed to visit in the first week. By the second, Ryan had been transferred to the psychiatric unit to do some testing. 

 

“Let me visit him first,” Shane had suggested to the exec, “I’ll ask him in person about the show.”

“I’ll start penciling in the budget for the upcoming season anyway.”

Shane rolled his eyes. “The show could have to do with his mental health. Ryan gets really scared out there. My heavy-handed skeptic stuff is kind of an act, he legitimately believes in it.”

The exec scoffed. “We’ve been over this. No ghost show would make someone suicidal. He was probably high or drunk -- which is really bad press, by the way. He’s lucky he’s even welcome back.”

“Please,” Shane’s eyes had lowered, as he forced his breathing to steady, “Let me visit him and ask.”

The exec had shrugged, taking a long sip of his coffee. “Yeah, whatever. Just get me his thoughts before Wednesday.”

 

It was Tuesday and Shane Madej was trembling. No ghost or demon or spooky apparition could break him, but this was real shit. This was no cameras shit. He knocked on the visitor’s room door, where Ryan buzzed him in.

Shane tried not to look at his best friend, as his eyes frantically darted around the room. It was a bleak space, with yellow painted walls -- certainly no Rolling Hills Asylum. There was a soft looking couch and a chair, and a barricaded window. A table with magazines. It was a liminal space. A waiting space.

“So…” Shane glanced downwards. Ryan was wearing large fuzzy slipper socks. He swallowed the lump in his throat and broke composure.

“God, I’m glad you’re alive, and safe, and --” Shane pushed down the flame of indignance, not fully vanquishing it from his tone. “What happened, man? What the fuck happened?”

Ryan was quiet. He was wearing a brace and a pair of oversized grey sweats, hair soaked and eyes flickering up to meet Shane’s. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

“I invited a demon in, Shane. I really fucking did it and dude, it came and got me.” A small, manic smile flashed across Ryan’s face, a shade darker than the one he made when he cracked a joke about Shane’s height.

“What are you talking about?” Shane leaned in.

“I knew you wouldn’t believe me,” Ryan shook his head, “You fuckin’ wouldn’t believe it if it came down and took you instead.”

Shane held back laughter. It wasn’t funny, nothing about it was funny, but it was so bizarre, he wanted to make some kind of noise. Wanted to release this tension. “Okay,” Shane said, “Okay. I believe that you think a demon came for you.”

“It did. I can show you.” Ryan’s smile twisted again, contorting his face into a bizarre shape that Shane had never seen it make before, “I hope you liked being a skeptic, Shane, because.” 

Ryan stopped talking as his eyes flashed hideously. A deep murky red. Shane felt his heart quicken. He gasped as if he was drowning in those pools of dull rust, and tried to pull himself out. Shuddering, he leaned back against the rough fabric of the couch and managed to break eye contact. 

Shane shut his eyes tightly. He was covered in cold sweat. Faintly, he could hear Ryan whimpering to his right.

“I told you, Shane, I fucking told you. It’s inside of me and I don’t fucking….I don’t fucking know how to get it out.”

Shane pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I’m getting you out of here. I’m fucking -- I can’t believe I’m saying this but I’m going to get you back to Father Thomas. No cameras this time. We’re gonna get you exorcised.”

Ryan’s head crashed into his lap and Shane felt his whole body shake with tears. He awkwardly ran his fingers through Ryan’s raven black hair. Their breathing began to steady, falling into one slow, quiet rhythm. 

_ Alive. _

It was all that Shane could ask for.


End file.
